Sharing God's Love and Grace

Meditation on Matthew 14:22-33

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Aug. 13, 2023

It is good to be back leading worship with you. I can’t put into words how strange it feels on Sunday morning when I am NOT with you.

My vacation began with a celebration of my birthday with my two granddaughters in Cambridge, MA. The following day, my mom and I left from Boston Harbor on the ship Zaandam for a 7-day cruise. We had beautiful weather, traveling up the New England Coast to Canada, stopping in Portland, Maine and Bar Harbor; Saint John, New Brunswick; Halifax, Nova Scotia; and Sydney on Cape Breton Island. I enjoyed being on the ship, walking the promenade deck, taking in the ocean breezes, watching beautiful sunsets and the water that went on for miles and miles, when we were out at sea, with no land in sight. It was nice to take time and just rest and breathe, be in the moment, enjoy the scenery. We all need that! Amen?

Sydney was probably my favorite destination. Our guide was willing to tell the whole story of his community—not sugarcoat it for the tourists, if you know what I mean. A bus took us to economically struggling areas, as well as more well-to-do and polished tourist spots. We went to the Mi’kmaq Nation’s reservation, saw from the tourbus windows its museums, parks, hotels, and casino, and heard how the indigenous people haven’t been treated fairly by the Europeans but the province is trying to do better.

The sweetest part of that trip for me was when we stopped at a former Jewish synagogue that has become the Whitney Pier Historical Society’s Museum. The Whitney Pier region is the district adjacent to the former coal mines and a steel mill that was one of the world’s largest steel mills in the 20^th century. The plant that played an important role in the Allied war effort in WWII fell on hard times and closed in 1968. Reopened and operated by the government after overwhelming public protest, it closed permanently in 2001. Cleaning up the former steel plant and the toxic Sydney Tar Ponds it left behind were a source of controversy due to its health effects on residents. After the clean-up was finished in 2013, the community built Open Hearth Park on the former steel plant site. The tour guide motioned to it with a nod and a wave as the bus roared by.

At the historical society museum, I went through old-fashioned scrap books with curling photographs and yellowed newspaper articles. Some family histories were written by schoolchildren. One memorable display told the story of Carl “Campy” Crawford of Whitney Pier. Campy became the first black municipal police officer east of Montreal when he joined the Sydney Police Servicein 1964. When he died in 2003, the force established an award in his honor for officers who demonstrate “leadership and commitment to justice, fairness, volunteerism, sportsmanship and equality in their community.” In 2021, a road that was built across the former coke ovens site as part of the $400-million tar ponds cleanup was renamed “Crawford Crossing” for Campy.

I got to talking with one of the historical society ladies, and I lost my mom. I found her in the museum’s basement and joined her in eating Scottish oatcakes. The ladies joked with us that they didn’t make them, but they gave us a recipe in case we wanted to! Anyone ever made Scottish oatcakes? I have to ask Margaret Cowie.(She said no. But she does make Scottish porridge every day.)

Today, Sydney is home to a diverse population, with many languages and cultures represented. It continues to be a place of refuge for people emigrating from all over the world. Ukrainians have come recently, sponsored by a local Ukrainian church.

Faith is important to many of the residents. I lost count of the number of houses of worship that we passed along the way.

The tour guide said that most people who live on Cape Breton Island cannot afford to buy homes. Young people continue to leave the area searching for better jobs and more opportunities. They rarely return.

The island’s saving grace, perhaps, has become tourism. Political leaders saw this coming, and the Sydney Harbor Channel was dredged for cruise ships in April 2012. Since then, tourism has greatly expanded as people come to shop, eat, and listen to live music at the foot of the world’s largest fiddle, take walking and driving tours, visit the Alexander Bell and other museums and lighthouses, hike the Cabot Trail, and play golf on courses with breathtaking views of mountains, cliffs, and beaches. I’d like to go back someday with Jim and stay at a hotel or bed and breakfast.

The tour guide, a retired teacher and son of a coal miner, used the word “resilient” when he talked about the people who stay, despite the difficulties. Resilient, he said, with a little catch in his voice. I keep remembering the way the people treated us—in the shops where they sold handmade clothing, bags, hats, scarves, and jewelry; walking on the town’s streets; touring historic churches and other buildings. They sincerely, warmly welcomed us.

Back on the ship, I heard one person say, “Some of these places may not be exciting to visit, but you can tell they are nice places to live.”

And I thought, “What a wonderful testimony to the strength, faith, and yes, resilience of a people!” Despite their disappointments and losses, they are kind, cheerful, and welcoming to outsiders. They treated us like we were Jesus walking toward them, on the sea, coming to them in their time of need.

The disciples don’t recognize Jesus, at first, when he comes to them on the water. They aren’t expecting him and certainly aren’t expecting him to come the way that he comes! Jesus is the one who urged them to sail without him, so that he could go to the mountain for some time alone to pray. This is the first time in Matthew that Jesus is recorded praying. Is this a call to the Church to pray for strength for the ministry journey ahead? I think so.

They had had a long day of ministry—teaching healing and yes, feeding a multitude with a little bit of food. Jesus was the one who ultimately dismissed the crowds—told them to go home—so that he and his disciples could recover and rest. They needed time to breathe and prepare for new ministry. But a storm comes while Jesus is on the mountain. Wind and waves batter the disciples’ little sailboat and carry it far from land. They are separated from Jesus and don’t know how to get back to him. They are afraid.

So, when the form came to them in the stormy, watery darkness, they do what other people might do in their situation—they think they are seeing a ghost! Doesn’t it help us to see just how ordinary the disciples are? Not so different from you and me.

This miracle of walking on water is an opportunity for Jesus to reveal that he is not just a human being, like us. He is also divine. This is how God saves the world—through God’s only Son. Notice that Christ reveals his divinity—his ability to walk on water—only to his disciples, and only when they are away from the crowds. And notice that he shows his divinity through this miraculous rescue when they are together and yes, in their time of need. He always comes in our time of need. We are stronger together! And, dear friends, Christ is here with us now.

This is assurance of Christ’s everlasting presence with the Church, and for our need to pray and seek him who wishes to be found. The first thing the Lord does is address their emotional state. Our Lord cares about us, dear friends! “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid,” he says.

Our Lord invites us to enter into ministry with him—to do miracles we couldn’t possibly do on our own. All we need is a tiny bit of faith-like Peter! And we can be like Jesus, walking toward people caught in the waves of a turbulent sea and help them in their time of need.

See how Peter starts his answer to Christ’s assurance of his identity. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He isn’t convinced that the ghostly figure on the water is Jesus!

Christ says to all of us now, “Come.” His hand is outstretched to us, to step out in faith, despite the swirling waters around us. Come to grow the Kingdom and be transformed, more and more. Don’t be afraid to do things you wouldn’t normally think of doing, things you aren’t sure you know how to do or will be successful doing, in your own strength! I am sure Peter didn’t wake up that morning and say to himself, “Gee, I think I should walk on the sea with Jesus today.” But when he saw him on the water, he was willing to go and meet him there! Keep your heart open and your eyes fixed on Jesus.

I have heard many a message that criticizes Peter for what happens after he steps out of the boat. But I think that’s a misunderstanding. You see, we are supposed to imagine ourselves in the same situation—taking a step of faith, then experiencing the strong force of the wind, and then starting to sink into doubt and fear. This is what you and I would do in the same situation! This is what we do! And that doesn’t make the Lord love us any less. And it doesn’t stop the Lord from helping us in our time of need, when we say with Peter, “Lord, save me!”

This is what Jesus does for Peter and for you and for me. He immediately reaches out his hand and catches us, saying, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” I imagine him smiling as he says these words. He is pleased that we want to be closer to him. We are stirred by this knowledge of his love and desire for us to worship and serve and follow more closely. Every day, we have new challenges. Yes, we do. And every morning, new mercies. Praise God! All we need is a wee bit of faith, like Peter. With the Spirit’s help, we can be RESILIENT.

We can weather difficulties as individuals and as a gathered church of Jesus Christ. Because of the One who is fully human and fully God. The One who died and was risen to set us free to live abundantly!

So, let go of your fear and reach out to clasp the extended hand of Your Savior. The one who is truly the Son of God.

Let us pray.

Holy One, Risen Savior, Son of God, save us now! We are walking in turbulent waters with you. We have never done this before. We are afraid of sinking and drowning. Help us to reach out to you and accept your extended hand. Stir us to cling to you and the faith you have given us so that we may grow your Kingdom and be transformed, more and more. Grant us grace and peace as we journey together. Lead us to help others in their time of need. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 13:1–9, 18–23

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 16, 2023

I took a walk around my garden yesterday, after the rain. And before the storm this morning!

While the spring flowers and bulbs have finished, many of the summer flowers are blooming in vivid colors.

Red roses, bee balm, geranium and tall, spikey cardinal flower. Bright yellow: black eyed Susans and daylilies. Blue: forget me nots, hosta, and hydrangea. Purple catmint, lavender, sage, veronica. Dainty white daisies. Other plants have the look of blooming soon. Phlox. Butterfly Bush. Rose of Sharon. Coral bells.

And yet, this is the time of year when I have mixed emotions about the garden. I am happy that many of the plants have done well. But I also see where my efforts didn’t pay off with good results: seeds that never sprouted, though they had good soil, water, light and warmth. Plants that started out great—and now have leaves eaten by beetles and slugs. Or choked out by weeds and vines, including poison ivy. I have the telltale blisters and rash on my arms that I have, once again, come in contact with the plant that I try so hard to avoid.

Gardening is a dangerous thing.

You’d think I get used to it. Or maybe I would just quit gardening and take up another hobby. You know, something safe and comfortable, that you can do inside, in the air conditioning. So much work: weeding, deadheading, trimming, watering. Spraying deer and rabbit repellent once a week—or there wouldn’t be a garden at all.

This time of year, in spite of the many flowers in bloom, I begin to question if it is worth all the time and effort.

Reading the parable of the sower and the seed through the perspective of my own gardening experiences, I can’t help but wonder why the sower is scattering seed in places where the seed won’t grow well. Why are they throwing seed on the path for the birds to eat? Why do they throw seed on rocky ground or among thorns? Why are they being so wasteful?

The answer is that the sower isn’t a gardener or farmer in this story. They do one job and one job alone. They scatter the seed and move on. The sower doesn’t prepare the soil. They don’t remove rocks and weeds. They don’t add soil conditioners or organic matter. They don’t fertilize or water.

They scatter the seed and keep going.

They don’t stick around to watch over and care for the plants through the stages of growth, doing what they can to help them form healthy roots, stems, leaves, flowers, fruit, and seeds.

They scatter the seed. That’s all. Predictably, with mixed results.

The great crowd of people, who have followed Jesus and are listening to him teach from a small boat put out a little way from the shore, is thinking the same thing, “Why did the sower do such a poor job?”

They know that only the seed planted in good soil will grow to maturity and bear fruit and yield an abundant harvest. And this is the point of the story—knowing what it means to be the one who is planted and plants in good soil and bears fruit.

This is the promise for the one who hears the word of the Lord, understands it and lives by it: you will bear fruit and yield an abundant harvest. The one with a good foundation in Jesus Christ will endure in the faith when the evil one tries to make us stumble in our walk with God. The one rooted in Christ will not lose our joy when persecution and suffering comes. Those planted in good soil won’t be distracted by the cares of this age or the lure of wealth.

What I can’t stop thinking about is the sower who scatters the seed and keeps walking, regardless of whether the seed falls on rocky or thorny ground or in the path.

That just seems wrong to me.

I believe that we do have the responsibility to help people hear God’s word and understand it, take it to heart and allow it to change their lives. We do that by staying in loving relationship with one another and to those whom God calls us to reach with the gospel. Hearing the word and coming to understand it with our minds and hearts takes time, patience, and being in loving relationship.

We are God’s gardeners—called to tend the garden of humanity, all the world that God so loves. Tending the garden means sowing seeds of kindness, of faith, hope, love, peace, grace, endurance, forgiveness, gentleness, patience, and generosity. We tend even though the work is dangerous, frustrating, tiring, and in spite of persecution or suffering. We are called to be the Lord’s Gardeners, with God’s gracious help.

But we are not just God’s Gardeners, workers for the Kingdom Harvest. We are also God’s Garden. We are the seeds being scattered and sown. And we have the seeds of kindness, of faith, hope, love, endurance, forgiveness, gentleness, patience, and generosity given to us by the Spirit, dwelling within us. The Lord is tending us, carefully and lovingly, helping us to grow each day. Like my garden that is far from perfect, we are not perfect; in God’s eyes, we are still beautiful and loved with an everlasting and unconditional love.

The Lord doesn’t just scatter seeds and keep going, like the sower in the story. God who created us in the divine image breathed life into us with God’s own breath. The Lord can see what we WILL be, someday, when the work of the Spirit is done, and Jesus comes again to gather His Church. What a glorious day that will be!

This time of year, though I have mixed emotions about the work—and I hate the heat, humidity, and bugs!—something compels me to keep going back to the garden. I sense that I am called to care for the plants and animals, for they matter, never thinking that they belong to me, to do whatever I want to do with them, because they are in my yard. They belong to God, and I am entrusted with this Holy work.

I always have hope that things will better next year. I try to learn from my experiences—and from talking with other gardeners. It’s often trial and error with gardening, isn’t it? Just when I am ready to give up and find a new hobby, I have a burst of energy and creativity In the fall. Fall is the best time to dig and plant. While I work, I will be dreaming, once again, of my beautiful garden in spring.

This is what I pray for all of you: when you get mixed emotions about your call to be God’s Gardeners, when you get tired of sowing seeds and not seeing results: that you will be strengthened to continue in God’s work. That you will keep a good foundation for your life in Jesus Christ, with prayer, worship, Christian fellowship, and studying scripture. That you will see how important your work of sowing is for God and humanity. For sowing seeds is a Holy mission. The lives you touch with your Holy work are lives that belong to God. Therefore, be gentle and gracious with all people.

Also remember, dear friends, that you are God’s Garden. You are the seed God has planted and is nurturing to eternal life. The Lord isn’t finished with YOU, yet. Or anyone else! The work of the Spirit goes on. So be patient with yourself—and with others. Everything we see is temporary.

As we leave from this place today, as God’s Gardeners and Garden, let us hold onto the promise that God is with us, never a sower that scatters and keeps going. The Lord is nourishing us to endure in the faith. From seed to root, stems and leaves, God is at work in and among us!

Hearing the word and coming to understand it with our minds and hearts takes time, patience, and being in loving relationship.

May we bloom and bear fruit, ever so abundantly, serving God and neighbor, our community and world!

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for calling us to be your Gardeners and your Garden, creating us in your image and breathing in us your very breath, your Holy Spirit. Help us, Lord, in this Holy Work of sharing the gospel with our community and world. It isn’t always comfortable or easy. Give us courage to be faithful to sow seeds of kindness and peace, grace, gentleness and generosity, hope and love, and to not be disappointed if we don’t see the results we want to see. Guide us to trust in you to do the work of growth in us and others as we seek to understand and keep your word in our hearts and minds and be obedient to your call. In the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 9, 2023

I made a stop at an optician’s office to buy new glasses this week, in between pastoral care visits and serving Home Communion. Still wearing my pink clergy shirt with a white collar, I stopped in to see John in the Shop Rite shopping center in Hauppauge.

Well, my eyeglass prescription had changed, and I had been putting it off and worrying about it. I didn’t want to spend $800, like I did 7 years ago when I bought new glasses in Florida. And I thought, if I paid that much for my glasses that long ago, in Florida, how much are they going to cost me here?

One of our members had recommended John. She told me some of his story—and the good experience she had with him. Beginning in middle school, John learned how to grind lenses from his optician uncle. His parents sent him to help his uncle in his eyeglass shop for a few weeks each summer. John said that he was a terror with his glasses and was always breaking them as a kid. His parents were weary of replacing them!

“Go and learn how to make them yourself,” they said!

So he did.

John had nothing but wonderful things to say about his uncle—and what a testimony to his hands-on teaching and example that John would decide that he, too, would pursue a career as an optician and help people see better by fitting them with glasses.

He didn’t have any coupon offers for me. No buy one, get one half off. He was just kind, honest, and generous. He was funny, too. When I walked up to the counter with my new prescription and asked if he would help me find new glasses, he looked at the paper—and looked at me not wearing any glasses—and said, “You must be wearing contact lenses. Because you’re REALLY near sighted!”

In the end, he didn’t try to sell me any glasses! He said, “You don’t look like a glasses’ kind of girl. You look like a contact lenses’ kind of girl.” (And I didn’t mind being called a girl at all!)

He persuaded me to let him make new lenses for my old frames that he would straighten and tighten. The new lenses cost about half the price I paid for new glasses 7 years ago and would be thinner and lighter than the old ones. He shook his head when I offered to give him a deposit. No one pays until they pick up their glasses and walk out satisfied. He would text me when they were ready.

I didn’t expect that, at all!

As I drove home, I thought about how John learned the technology of making eyeglasses and fitting people for glasses through a formal degree program. But he learned how to be an optician as an apprentice to his uncle, working closely with and watching a man who obviously cared about his clients and his community more than maximizing his profit!

Our passage in Matthew today is about seeing the ways of Christ and our faith with fresh eyes and doing the unexpected as a witness to Christ. This reading is about wisdom—a new kind of wisdom than what passes for wisdom in our culture and wisdom in Jesus’ time and place.

Things haven’t changed THAT much.

Jesus turns everything upside down! People are confused and angered by him! He sounds exasperated by those who are misunderstanding and complaining about what he and his relative, John the Baptist, have been doing and saying about the Kingdom of God and the importance of repentance. He is sharply critical of institutional religion, with those in leadership holding to a form of religiosity, without actually living a life of faith, in loving relationship with God and neighbor.

Jesus says of his critics,

 “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

The example Christ gives of those who are understanding and living out their faith is that of children and infants—the ones without any voice, power, or status. He prays, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things (the true wisdom of the world) from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.”

On this day when we welcome and baptize Jesse Scanna, Jr. and celebrate his entrance into Christ’s Body and being claimed by Him, isn’t it inspiring to talk about the wisdom of children and infants as a model for us all? This is important to remember—that it isn’t just the family and Church family who have much to teach and nurture in those whom we baptize. The children and infants also have much to teach and nurture in US—if only we have eyes to see and hearts open to learn from them and be changed by them.

In Matthew 18, the disciples are arguing with each other over who is the greatest and Jesus  “called a child, whom he put among them, and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”

When I was with the optician in Hauppauge, being fitting for my new lenses, the optician who learned his care and concern for his clients as a teen from the uncle who served as his mentor, asked me to put on my glasses, while I was wearing my contact lenses. He apologized for any discomfort it would cause me.

As I looked through my contact lenses, combined with my glasses with thick, corrective lenses, I saw the room completely distorted. The world was a mush of colors and unidentifiable shapes. I couldn’t tell which forms were people and which were furniture. Even the light emanating from light fixtures was bent and casting an eerie glow.

A new thought popped into my head. This is how the world looks to some people, who live without faith. Who have NO hope. The world is ugly, distorted. Confusing.

When we know Christ and the compassion of God, we have clarity. We see glimpses of the Kingdom right here. We see blessings and order in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

I saw the kindness of an optician as a gracious gift from God on a seemingly ordinary day. It’s all in how we see the world and ourselves, our testimonies in Christ. Everything looks different when we see our own personal stories through the lens of the life and self-giving love of Christ, our Savior, humble teacher, and merciful healer.

But those of us who have been churchgoers for a long time may be tempted to take for granted the yoke of Christ or forget that we have to keep on choosing to accept this yoke, each day. That is, if we want to have a peace that surpasses all understanding and a kind of rest that the world will never give.

This is a SOUL rest. A SABBATH rest we can experience any time—and not just on Sunday morning. This is for those who want a different way of life than the world would choose for us. For those who long to stop striving and trying to be perfect, strong, and smart. For those who are always falling short of our own ridiculously high expectations and not living in the fullness of Christ’s redeemed! This invitation from Christ to companion with him for all eternity is a gift for ALL who seek it!

Listen to your Lord, once again, through The Message, Eugene Peterson’s translation:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me. Watch how I do it.  Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Let us pray.

Holy One, we ARE tired. We ARE worn out. We are ready for a change. Yes, we will come to you. Yes, we want to get away with you and recover our lives, the lives you have planned for us. Teach us about real rest. Help us to take a real rest. Gather us close to you so that we may watch you as you walk and work and learn to walk and work with you. Give us your joy and peace as we experience the unforced rhythms of grace—something we can’t see or know in this world without knowing you. We promise to trust you as you build up our faith. We trust that you won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on us—that everything will be OK. That you will keep company with us as we keep company with you and be stirred to live freely and lightly. In your Son’s name we pray with thanksgiving. Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 10:40-42

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 2, 2023

Today, we had the joy of presenting an A.B. Lawrence Memorial Scholarship to Alyssa Hubbs, who has grown up in our congregation!

I have seen her faith in action, and her loving, giving ways up close. I marvel at her servant spirit, something I don’t often see in a person so young. I wrote this in a letter of recommendation for the Rambo Scholarship from Northport, which she also received!

I told the scholarship committee that among her many spiritual gifts, the one I see the most often is her gift of “helps” – offering and following through with any task that is needed, without any fanfare. She is humble and hardworking, probably embarrassed by all this attention!

She puts the needs of others before her own.

The list of her acts of service is long. She served as a junior deacon for more than two years. She baked bread for Communion and cookies for bake sales and assisted at fundraisers. She has a great rapport with young children and adults and has labored as a teacher and helper in Sunday school for five years. Just think how many lives she has already touched with her gentle spirit!

She shows up for church clean up days, in spite of her busy schedule, with her family, not being afraid to get her hands dirty—weeding and blowing leaves, power washing the parking lot, and washing windows. During the pandemic when the church was closed, she helped deliver Communion baskets to members, with bread and juice and inspirational pamphlets. She has wrapped countless presents for Adopt-an-Angel.

She isn’t just a worker. She isn’t JUST a Martha, though you know how important Martha’s gifts were for the Lord and his disciples. She is also a Mary—and I want to encourage her, today, to continue in her pursuit of Mary gifts in her busy life—the gift of contemplation, meditation on Scripture and pursuit of peace with God, drawing nearer to the Lord in prayer. This will give you strength and purpose, Alyssa, to do all that God has ordained for you to do.

On the first Sunday that I led worship—on March 20, 2022—Alyssa raised her hand during the sharing of joys and concerns. She asked for prayer for healing for her younger sister, Sara, who had just recently been diagnosed with diabetes. I could hear the concern in her voice and sense her strong belief in prayer. Since then, she has made other prayer requests for family and friends during worship.

There’s so much more to Alyssa—and I am sure some of you have beautiful Alyssa stories to share.

I have never seen her without a smile and a cheerful word on greeting, even if she has one of those headaches that she sometimes gets. Alyssa is a hugger! She possesses the gift of WELCOME.

As we praise and encourage Alyssa to keep going in her faith journey and discern God’s will for her life, let us be reminded that this young woman didn’t become the person she is all by herself. She has a close-knit, loving and faithful family. Her parents have brought her and her sister to church and Sunday School since they were babes in their arms, as they say. They model what it means to be humble servants. They work behind the scenes, quietly doing things that are important for the Kingdom of God. They are huggers, too! They possess the gift of WELCOME.

As we encourage Alyssa’s family to hold onto their faith and keep going in the works that God is leading them to do, let us be reminded that this family isn’t the family they are today all by themselves. Healthy families come from healthy communities, and especially healthy congregations. You have modeled to Alyssa’s family the love and welcome of Christ and encouraged them in their gifts!

Friends, we are connected by this common calling to serve Christ –and by the power of the Spirit, we can see the beauty of the Lord in each other. Every time we show love to one another and humbly serve each one, with acts of kindness and generosity both quiet and loud, small and large… we show the love and welcome of Christ to those whom Jesus called “the little ones.” This is his term of endearment for his followers. For all of us!

As he sends us out on a dangerous mission, just like he sent out the original 12, he sends us out with a promise. “Truly, I tell you,” he says, “none of these (his followers) will lose their reward.”

Our passage in Matthew falls at the end of chapter 10, and so much happens in this chapter! He calls the 12 disciples and “gives them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness!” He provides a list of instructions as they go to proclaim the good news that “The Kingdom of heaven has come near.” Their job is to do what he has been doing, with the Spirit’s power: “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.”

Isn’t it curious that He gives them a list of things NOT to take with them? This goes against everything his society would expect. It goes against logic! Don’t take any money, he says. “For you received without payment; give without payment.” “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff…” he says.

If the people open their hearts and homes to receive Christ’s good news, welcome and peace, they, too, will be Christ’s followers, proclaimers of his good news, welcome and peace to neighbors and strangers.

It really is simple, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t everyone embrace such a mission? Well, Christ promises his followers that they will be persecuted. This comes with seeking to build the present and coming Kingdom of heaven, of which we only see in glimpses in this side of eternal life.  “See, I am sending you out like sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves,” he says.

The religious and political leaders will be the persecutors. They will be handed over to councils, flogged in their own religious gathering places, dragged before governors and kings—all because of Jesus. But they need not fear those in power. The Spirit will lead them and give them the words to say as if Christ were speaking through them.

One of my favorite parts of chapter 10 is when Jesus uses birds to illustrate God’s love and tender care. Beginning at verse 29, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?” he asks—and a penny was worth about what our penny is worth today. “Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all numbered,” he goes on. “So do not be afraid,” Jesus says, of his mission and our calling. “For you are of more value than sparrows.”

Sometimes, it’s hard to imagine what a mission looks like, in this day and age. We think of “missionaries.” I know some who have answered that call to overseas’ mission fields.

Most of us aren’t called to be foreign mission workers. God doesn’t expect us all to leave our jobs and families, and, like Abraham at 75, go to a place where God will show us. Our mission field, at least for now, is right here where God has sent us, planted us, and continues to use and grow us. Every day, we choose to be obedient, serve and reveal God’s love, bear Christ’s peace and welcome one another, neighbors and strangers, as if we were welcoming Christ himself.

Here in our church family, we have said goodbye to many members as they move on to live and serve God in other places. In the last year or so, we have said goodbye to Marsha Saddlemire, Timmi Nalepa and her husband, Bob O’Brien. Harriet McMahon, and Tracy Henchey and her family. But when we gather at the Lord’s Table, as we will in a few moments, we are reunited with Christ’s Body in every time and place. It’s as if they never left! And we see a glimpse of the present and coming Kingdom of heaven that Christ often talked about. The Spirit re-members and strengthens the whole Church. Renewed and refreshed by bread and cup, we are, once again, sent out on our mission to proclaim the good news and reveal the love, peace, and welcome of Christ to the world.

In a few months, we will say goodbye, for a little while to Alyssa, who will be studying nursing at Iona University. We will hold her in our hearts and prayers and look forward to seeing her at Christmastime, if not before!

 Alyssa, you are being sent on a mission much like the mission of the 12 long ago. It will be challenging and hard, at times, and surprising and exciting—because God has a plan. You will learn and grow and make new friends! I know you! You will bloom wherever God plants you. We will be here waiting for you with open arms, ready to WELCOME you home! We will all want to give you hugs!

We will have more time together before we say goodbye, but when you go, I have a list of instructions. It isn’t quite the same as Christ’s list for his disciples. You will need money. Your parents will help you with that! You will need at least two sets of clothes. Probably more. And you will need more than one pair of shoes and one bag!

Alyssa, our love and peace, and the love and peace of Christ, will go with you.

Wherever you go, Christ will be with you in Spirit! He will help you to know God’s will each day. You don’t need to know more than one day—so don’t worry about the future!

Oh, and Christ will give you the words to say.

Do not fear! For the Lord loves you more than the sparrow. Not one sparrow falls to the ground apart from God’s knowing and caring.

Remember to be like Martha and continue in your humble service, with your precious gift of helps. And be like Mary—draw near to God and God will draw near to you!

Finally, remember to use your gift of WELCOME to neighbors and strangers. Keep on hugging! And in so doing, you will welcome Christ Himself.

Will you pray with me? Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for your love and welcome—desiring all to come to you and your Kingdom of Heaven, brought near through our Savior, Jesus Christ. Fill us with your love and welcome—so that we may serve you by loving and welcoming neighbors and strangers, until all may come to know you and your love and welcome, too. As we seek to obey your word and do your will, grant us your peace. Watch over our children and grandchildren, when you send them out on their divine mission. Give us strength to release them and faith to trust them to be with you wherever they go. Be gentle with them as you transform and grow them. Then use them, dear God and Father of all humanity, to make the world a better place. In the name of Christ the Lord we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Romans 8:14-38

In Memory of June Carlson

6/24/1930-3/22/2023

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

June 25, 2023

I was the new pastor in Smithtown when I called June Carlson in May of last year. I introduced myself and told her how surprised I was to discover that she was living in the same senior living community where my mom lives—John Knox Village, in Orange City, FL.

She shared how surprised SHE was that her pastor from Smithtown, New York was calling her! And she knew my Mom! They met playing bridge.

We had a wonderful conversation that day, in which I learned a little about her life here and her life there and her hopes for the church. She never forgot us, though it had been some 9 years since she had moved away. She specifically asked about programs for children and youth. Did we bring back Vacation Bible School, yet? It was the first of many wonderful conversations; I continued to reach out to her by phone regularly, and we exchanged cards and letters.

On that first call, she told me how, in addition to playing bridge with my mom, they often had lunch together with a group on Sundays at 2, when June gathered a circle of her “interesting” friends at John Knox. June had a sharp mind and enjoyed being in the company of other bright, active women. At those gatherings, my mom learned how June missed Smithtown—her church and community friends and all of the groups with which she had been involved.

 Yes, Smithtown was still her hometown, though she was born in Manhattan and grew up in Brooklyn. She graduated from what is now SUNY Oswego, northwest of Syracuse, and met dark-haired, dark-eyed Allan Carlson while they were attending graduate school at Columbia University. They were married at Grace Reformed Church in Brooklyn on Jan. 27, 1951. They lived in East Patchogue from ‘57-59 and had two children, Barbara and Phil. They moved to Schenectady for a couple of years before coming to Hauppauge in ‘62, then Saint James in ‘70.

Overall, June lived in the Smithtown area 51 years. She and Allan joined our congregation in the early 1960s, bringing their children with them for worship and children and youth programs, including Vacation Bible School!

June never shared with me that she had been a kindergarten teacher! She served children in elementary schools in Commack for 28 years—Circle Hill, Cedar Road, and Rolling Hills. She retired in 1992. When I heard that—it all made sense. Why she worried about children’s ministry so much and why we got along so well—because as a former teacher myself, I know the importance of nurturing the faith of children from an early age. We can’t wait till they are fully grown to tell them about God’s love. They need to know it now!

June cared about her community and was a joiner. She was a member of the Smithtown Garden Club and one of her projects included tending the Caleb Smith Park herb garden. She served as a trustee on the Library Board and member of the Friends of Smithtown Library. She served on the town arts council and the auxiliary of St. Catherine’s Hospital in Smithtown when it was St. John’s. She was active with the historical society. She wanted to help other women pursue higher education; this led to her involvement with PEO and remaining active with the group after she moved to Florida. This was true of AAUW, of which she was a charter member of Smithtown’s chapter. She loved participating in fund-raising activities—chairing fashion shows and luncheons.

At her senior living community in Florida, June remained active and social. In addition to playing bridge several days a week, she went to morning aquatic exercise classes, and, when she was living independently in an apartment there, attended a local church on Sunday mornings.

The strange coincidence, if you believe in coincidences, was that I actually met June at John Knox while I was serving a church on Merritt Island and visiting my parents there. I met her, again, when I was serving the church in Ohio and my father passed away in August 2019. I presided over his funeral at the community center at John Knox. And she came.

So, I think I have known June since 2016 or 17, only I have never seen her in her beloved Smithtown. Well, perhaps that’s not true. Because I have sensed her spirit with us in her garden. The garden was established in 1994, with her gift, in memory of her husband, Allan, who died on Feb. 19, 1982, and her son, Philip, who died on Nov. 17, 1993.

To talk with June, you would never know that she had experienced the great sadness of losing her husband and son, while he was still a young man. Tending to the garden was a way of nurturing her memories—and a good reminder that death can and would be swallowed up by life. She often checked in with our trustees, asking them how the garden was growing—and making sure there were funds for its upkeep.

June married a man named from Australia named Keith Johnston in 1989 and this led to their buying a place in Palm Coast, FL, and their dividing their time between Long Island and Florida.

Keith passed away in 2014, and June moved to John Knox in Orange City in 2015.

To talk with her by phone, you would never know about her physical challenges. She never talked about her pain or struggle with mobility and low vision. She didn’t complain about her health. She continued to play bridge and do many other social things as long as she could.

I think one reason that she was able to move past the pain of her losses and persevere through the many challenges and life transitions, including having to leave her apartment and move to the nursing home, was the help from the Spirit of the Lord. The Spirit gave her strength while she was weak. I never sensed any fear in June. She was a woman of faith and great confidence, a woman who persevered and was not ready to give up when things got hard.

This is the promise to all the faithful in Paul’s letter to the Romans. That the Spirit who lives within us and dwells in our midst also intercedes for us with God, with groans and sighs too deep for words. Because we don’t always know how we ought to pray. We can’t find the words to say. We don’t know what we need. The Spirit does!

 We ourselves wait for our transformation, the conforming to the image of God’s Son, as Paul says. We wait for the revealing of our redemption and our glory as the children of God. We wait for all Creation to be set free from its bondage and decay. And as we wait in hope, we seek to participate in the Spirit’s creative work in and all around us. We might not be able to see the changes with our own eyes, but our faith tells us that it is happening, right now. This very moment. As we share June’s story and remember God’s promises, including God’s everlasting presence with us, the transformation is taking place.

I talked with my mom yesterday to let her know about our remembering June today. Mom still volunteers at the nursing home where June spent her last months; it’s where my father was in his last months with us, as well. She helped June and helps others in wheelchairs come to the worship service on Sunday morning.

She talked about how popular June was. How she had many friends, and that she is dearly missed—especially by one lady, another resident, who was a close friend to her at the nursing home. They were always together. Her name is Dottie Hallevy, and she just celebrated her 102^nd birthday!

This is how we can glimpse the love of God right here with us now–through the love of friends and family.

Is there something you are struggling with right now? Do you have fear or anxiety? Are you struggling with the pain of grief and loss? Or possibly, a physical or financial challenge is worrying you? A big decision that you have to make? Maybe you are worrying about a loved one?

Remember the Holy Spirit is interceding with God for you, for all the Body of Christ, right now. None of us know how to perfectly pray as we ought. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pray! We should absolutely pray without ceasing, as Paul will say in another letter—I Thess. 5:17. But it is hard to pray in God’s will when we don’t know what God’s will is. But the Spirit always knows. And the Spirit wants to help us in our weakness!

We are all connected by the love of God poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit. God’s Love that brought you here to worship today will continue to unite the Church and empower us to do God’s will, as the Spirit reveals it. As we receive God’s Love, we are moved to reach out in friendship to others, especially those who may truly be in need of a friend.

Remember: This is how the world will be able to catch a glimpse of the Savior’s love—by the love we share, especially with those in need.

 We who have come to worship because of God’s Love will go from this place in the love of a God who knows us intimately! For this is a God who searches our hearts! A gracious God who does not condemn us!

We will leave without fear, knowing with all certainty that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Let us pray.

Holy and Gracious God, thank you for not withholding your Only Son, when we were in need of a Savior. Thank for your love and the promise that we will never be separated from your love—or from your everlasting presence with us. Thank you for all the saints—for the Children of God and your Spirit that intercedes for us, leads us, and helps us in our weakness. Replace our fear with faith, dear Lord. Keep us walking in kindness and gentleness, praying without ceasing, and making new friendships so that others may see a glimpse of your love. In the name of Christ we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Genesis 12, 18, and 21, selected verses

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

June 18, 2023

We had the Sunday School picnic at the manse last Sunday. It was amazing! The weather was perfect. Many of the children, families, teachers, and children’s ministry leaders came and stayed several hours. We ate and watched the children play. They ran around on the grass, did cartwheels, jumped rope and played tug-of-war, blew bubbles and threw bean bags, and raced through the manse looking for my dog and cat!

The most memorable thing of all to me was when a whole group of them climbed a tree. With no adults involved, the children helped one another up into the tree—one by one, small ones were lifted up. Hands reached out to grasp other hands.

Little boys, bigger boys, little girls, bigger girls—everyone was welcome to come to the tree and stay awhile.

I will never look at that tree again without remembering that special day—when moms and dads were working hard in their callings to be Christian mothers and fathers. Is it OK to claim that word for Presbyterians? We are Christians! And we aren’t ashamed for the world to know it!

This is my second Father’s Day with you. I have to admit that it is a little intimidating preaching on Father’s Day—as a pastor who has never been a father. Probably your first pastor who has never been a FATHER. I can’t pretend to understand all that men go through when they are fathers. Being a father is a special calling—and it’s not my calling. But it IS my calling to encourage you as you seek to be faithful.

I have been blessed with a wonderful father and a wonderful husband, who has been a terrific stepdad to my 3 boys—now men—for nearly 18 years. I watch fathers—how they interact with their children and how the interactions change as their children grow up. Fathers and sons, like mothers and daughters, can also become friends.

My husband and his son, Danny, text often. They talk about politics, economics, sports, and the granddaughters—their favorite topic. Danny sends photos and video messages, which we so appreciate. It touches my heart to see Danny, who is a Ph.D. biochemist, working hard to serve his family, including a professional wife, who is a researcher and staff physician at Boston Children’s Hospital and instructor of pediatrics at Harvard Medical School.

Danny isn’t the father of Father Knows Best or Leave It to Beaver, where the husband comes home in a suit and tie, and says to his wife, wearing pearls and lipstick, dress and hose and, of course, an apron, “Honey, I’m home. What’s for dinner?” Danny is the one who gets the girls ready for school in the morning—gets them out of bed, including the youngest one, Maddie, who is 5 and not a morning person. He makes their breakfast, sees that they are dressed appropriately, prepares their snacks and lunchboxes, and gets them to their respective schools on time. He also shops and cooks dinner and does so many other tasks—quietly, behind the scenes, without complaint. He is involved in school and after school activities, as his wife Hiu-fai is. They play with their children, taking them out on weekends, when they are not involved in gymnastics, soccer, hockey, softball or other sports. They go on bike rides to parks, playgrounds, museums, and community festivals. They go on family vacations.

Men, of all ages, I see you working hard to care for your families, to support them in their interests and help them grow in every way, and most of all, to nurture their lives of faith in a time when, frankly, it’s not cool for guys to be in church or talk about church involvement, let alone their faith. Is it? It’s not cool.

The biblical example I offer you is the one whom Paul in his letter to the Romans calls the “Father of us all.” Let’s consider the faith of our Father Abraham. He writes in Romans 4, beginning at verse 13,

^“For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith… For this reason the promise depends on faith, in order that it may rest on grace, so that it may be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham (who is the father of all of us,  as it is written, “I have made you the father of many nations”), in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist. 

^“Hoping against hope, he believed that he would become ‘the father of many nations,” according to what was said, ‘So shall your descendants be.’  He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), and the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Abraham’s call story begins in Gen. 12—when he is 75 and hears God’s voice telling him to leave his home and kin and go off into the wilderness to a place God would show him. He hears a God that nobody else hears, a God who is near to him, a God who is gracious and loving, a God who makes promises and keeps them, even when Abraham and Sarah take matters into their own hands—and, frankly, make a mess of things. They just didn’t understand, like we don’t always understand, that sometimes, God calls us to wait and wait and wait…

Finally, at the age of 100, Isaac is born. Abraham had already had another child, Ishmael, with his wife’s Egyptian servant, Hagar. But Ishmael, at Sarah’s insistence to protect the inheritance of Isaac, is sent off to live in the wilderness. Isaac is the one who would be the next patriarch in the faith that would then be passed on to his younger son, Jacob, whom we also know as Israel, who would have 12 children with 2 wives and 2 concubines—now that’s an interesting story—and all would become the 12 tribes of Israel. His favorite son, Joseph, would carry the faith to Egypt, when he was taken as a slave—and he would become second in command to Pharaoh and save the lives of many people in a famine, including his family.

While God called Abraham to be a father, he was first and foremost a man of faith—hearing God’s voice and obeying without question, even when that meant the possibility of sacrificing the long-awaited son, years later, in a divine test on a mountain. In Abraham’s fatherhood, his offspring would be a blessing to all the nations, all the families on the earth.

This is a promise that all fathers have today. You are chosen, as well, in Jesus Christ. Your calling to fatherhood means that you are nurturing your offspring in the faith and life of the children of God. Wheww! It’s hard work in this busy time, when some days, you are just trying to juggle all the tasks that a person does to work and care for families.

Today, especially, on Father’s Day, may the knowledge of your special calling give you joy and peace. Because in your daily lives, though you are unaware of it, you are continuing the blessing of Abraham, as we are grafted into the family tree through our Savior! You are continuing to bless all the families of the earth through your offspring and their offspring, who every day, are a joyful witness to the faith and hope of Jesus Christ, without necessarily even talking about it. Thank you, Fathers, for all you do for your families and the Family of God.

And now, what about the men whose children are grown and, like my kids, live far away? Or maybe, you are a single man—not yet or never married, with kids. You still have a calling to be a father in the faith! That’s why you are here today—to be encouraged in that calling. You are needed to encourage other men, particularly younger men, in their walk with God. Don’t be shy about it! The Spirit will help you! Thank you, Fathers in the faith, for all you do for the Family of God.

My brothers in the Lord, may you always be people who care, people who listen with love and good humor, without judgement, when other men are sharing how weary and discouraged they are. Because men get tired, and they worry about their families all the time. I am sure some of them lie awake at night, wondering and worrying about the future.

My sisters and brothers, may we all be people who care, people who listen with love and good humor, without judgment, because, like Abraham, we all make mistakes! But our gracious Lord offers new mercies every morning.

We serve a God who always keeps God’s promises, though we may have to wait and wait and wait to see the promises come true.

Let us pray. Will you pray with me?

Heavenly Father, thank you for your tender love for us, sending your Son, Jesus Christ, to lead us back to you when we had gone astray. Thank you for the call of Abraham and the example of a faithful but very human man, hearing your voice when no one else in the world could hear you—and obeying immediately, without question. We lift up all the fathers in our community and world today. They have many challenges. It’s hard to be fathers and it’s harder still to be Christian fathers. Give them wisdom and strength, courage and endurance to live out their faith as you lead them and to help their children and children’s children grow in every way—including spiritually. Stir us all to believe in your promises and encourage the “fathers” in our lives. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 9:9–13, 18–26

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Sunday School Appreciation and Recognition Day

Pastor Karen Crawford

June 11, 2023

It is good to be back, leading worship and sharing a message with my flock! I missed you! How have you been?  This past week, I traveled to Austin, TX, for my 4th class in my Doctor of Ministry program. I have two more classes to go before my final project.

What I have learned so far, from this program, is the importance of hospitality, kindness, and mercy to all people. That doesn’t mean we don’t compare ourselves with other students, at least in the beginning. We have introverts and extroverts! People with different learning styles, strengths and needs. People ranging in age from 30 ish to 60 something, varying in gender and sexual preference or orientation– married, divorced, or single; with and without pets, children or grandchildren. Some serve as spiritual directors, counselors and teachers or work for presbyteries to train lay pastors or as EP’s and GP’s. Others are camp directors, chaplains, associate pastors, co-pastors, heads of staff, solo pastors, church planters and mission workers. Then, there are those with ministries serving children and families or young adults; and those ministering to veterans with PTSD.

We are Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, Episcopalians, Lutherans, former Catholic priests, Unitarian Universalists, and pastors serving in the United Church of Christ and United Church of Canada. The miracle is that we all get along with each other and care for one another through this challenging and creative program.

I’ll be honest. Sometimes there is tension because of our differences. But we are determined to not let our differences divide us—because of our faith that the Body is ONE. That we share the same Spirit. Inside our classes or dorms and especially when we eat together, in the dining hall or in local restaurants. No one is an outsider.

And this is how it is with Jesus—who shares meals with everyone—rich and poor, old and young, powerful and weak, those who like him, and those who don’t. Jesus eats with EVERYONE. So much so, that the Pharisees, who are faithful in their adherence to their beliefs, are annoyed.

They ask his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” One of the tax collectors, Matthew, who has just answered the call to follow Jesus and become one of his closest friends.

Eating is an intimate act, isn’t it? We both give and receive, when we share a meal. The meal, itself, means nourishment to the body, but also nourishment for relationships for those who are eating. The table is the great social equalizer, too, especially if you are all eating the same food. We are all human beings, who need to eat. And we need the social nourishment, too, of friendship. What better way to grow in friendship than by sharing a meal?

So, one day, while eating with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus is interrupted in his eating and teaching about our need for mercy, of all things—and how mercy is even more important in living out our faith than sacrifice. A leader has come to ask Jesus to heal his loved one. “My daughter has just died,” he says, “but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” The man has run out of options. There isn’t anything more that can be done for her! She has been pronounced dead. He isn’t ready to give up on her. Not if there’s a chance for her healing.

Matthew doesn’t tell us how old she is or give any details about the leader, but in Mark and Luke, the man is a leader of the synagogue called Jairus and his daughter is 12 years old. The man has seen Jesus heal. He makes his heartfelt request and Jesus responds immediately to his cry for help, though it means rising from the table and ending the dinner party, a celebration to welcome Matthew into the fold.

He’s on his way there—when there’s another who needs healing. Isn’t it funny how ministry happens when we are on our way to do ministry somewhere else? God has plans! Jesus is in just the right place at the right time. The woman who needs healing is an outsider because of her chronic health condition. She has been bleeding for 12 years. The medical profession has let her down—found no cure. She must be exhausted! But she sees Jesus, and she thinks to herself, “If only I can touch the fringe of his cloak, I will be healed.” That’s faith!

The fringe is the Hebew tzitzit, worn by Jewish men and some women to remind them of the commandments. This is a sacred cloth and not just the bottom threads of any garment. Jesus knows why she has touched his fringe, and says, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” The Greek word, sozo translated made you well could also be translated, “saved you.” This is healing of body and soul!

Finally, Jesus arrives at the leader’s home—and the flutes are playing, and the crowd is making a commotion—and Jesus tells them all to go away. They are beginning some kind of ritual done at the time of death, maybe like a funeral, when Jesus says, “Stop the music! She isn’t dead!” He takes her by the hand, and she gets up.

This makes me wonder why we always talk about the raising of Lazarus, but we hardly ever say anything about the raising of this 12-year-old unnamed girl, which is just as miraculous and wonderful! The bodies of young girls and women are as important to Jesus as adult men. And the healing of strangers is as important to him as the healing of friends and family.

I don’t want you to miss something here. It all starts with the meal, a kind of celebration of Matthew’s saying yes to following Jesus. At the meal, no one is an outsider. Everyone is welcome to the table and into a loving relationship with Jesus and all who follow him.

And the meal—where people draw closer to the Lord and one another—as they are nourished, body and soul–strengthens them to go and do acts of mercy and love, for Jesus’s sake. The meal of thanksgiving is very much like our Communion that we will celebrate today, in a few moments, the meal that unites and strengthens us to go and serve God and neighbor, in Christ’s name.

There’s one more special, spiritual thing we have planned for today. We are having a Sunday School picnic at the manse. We are celebrating another beautiful, joyful program year. And we want to say thank you to all the students, teachers, and families. Amazing things happen in Sunday School. Don’t you agree? Raise your hand if you ever went to Sunday School. I can tell! Look how amazing YOU are!

Sunday School is where children are nourished by sacred story, testimony and prayers, arts and crafts, music and games, and, of course, snacks, and, best of all, friendship. One cool thing about Sunday School is that the children become friends with other children they might not otherwise know and befriend—if it weren’t for the church! In our Sunday School, no one is an outsider. Ever.

There’s one requirement. You do have to be willing to receive hospitality, kindness and mercy and offer them to others. Hospitality, kindness, and mercy–that’s what Sunday School is all about. This is where we learn to be Christ’s disciples—not only with minds and words, but with actions and feelings. This is a place and time where our faith is formed and shaped—where our love for the Lord and one another is fed and grown.

This is my hope for our picnic today—the first Sunday School picnic in more than a few years and my first Sunday School picnic with you. Like the meal with Jesus before he goes and heals and like the Lord’s Supper we will share in a few moments, may our picnic bind us together in love, so that no one is an outsider, ever. May the gathering strengthen us—body, mind, and soul—to go and do more acts of hospitality, kindness, and mercy—and truly be Christ’s Body for the world!

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for your loving kindness, mercy, and hospitality, shown through the heart, words, and actions of your Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Thank you that he was willing to eat with strangers and friends alike, sinners and tax collectors, rich and poor, insiders and outsiders—and that he continues to share our meals with us, bless us, heal us, and grant us his peace for everlasting life. Thank you for the gift of faith of the man whose daughter had died and the woman who struggled with bleeding and for Christ’s compassion and power to heal. May we also have a strong faith, so that we might go and do acts of compassion and kindness, healing, and mercy that you lead us to do. May we always be a witness, within this congregation and out in the world, that no one is an outsider. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Guest Speaker/Worship Leader: Dulcie Stoepker McLeod

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

June 4, 2023

I want to talk today about a set of triplets.  No, it’s not 3 children!  And it’s not the Trinity, although this is Trinity Sunday.  It’s the trio found in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 13, verse 13: “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”  This is probably one of the best-known passages from the New Testament, and it’s easy to see why.

 Everyone knows that faith is important in the life of a Christian.  We refer to our brand of religion as our faith, we talk about our faith journeys, and we encourage one another to believe in the triune God and to live lives that will be guided by and pleasing to that triune God.  Likewise, to live that sort of life will surely involve spreading the good news of God’s love and being Christ’s loving hands in this world.  Faith and love are essential components of Christian life, and love (the greatest of the three) sort of drives the good things that we try to do in God’s name.

But hope?  In my experience, and maybe in yours as well, hope is the least mentioned of these triplets.  It feels as if hope is kind of…well, it’s kind of what we do when we aren’t sure what to do, or what comes next.   Is hope really as important as Paul makes it out to be?  What is it, and how does it work in the Christian life?

Well, I’ve done a little bit of research, and for starters, apparently there are 3 kinds of hope:  false hope, static hope, and active hope.

People want to have hope.  We even say that people are “holding out hope” for a miracle.  And we certainly don’t want to trash talk miracles, because they probably occur more often in our lives than we even realize.  But false hope is sold by charlatans, and that sort of hope does no one any good except those charlatans.  We might think of the peddlers of “cure-all” tonics back in the 1920’s—some elixir that is “guaranteed to cure everything from indigestion to arthritis—and it’ll give you sex appeal, to boot.”  {Side note:  they’re still out there—but now they’re on the internet.] And when we tell ourselves that nothing is wrong when something is definitely wrong—well, we’re selling that kind of false hope to ourselves.

Now, the second kind of hope–Static hope–isn’t so bad.  But it’s just sort of a placeholder to tamp down our worries.  “I hope she makes her flight.”  “I hope the test doesn’t ask me about Chapter 7; I didn’t actually study that one.”  We say we hope, but we can really only wait to see what happens.  Saying “I hope it doesn’t rain on Saturday” doesn’t move the future one way or the other—not one inch.

But then there’s active hope.  This is hope where we look around to see what we can do to improve the chances of a positive outcome.  We look around to see what we can do.  So, what can we do?  What actions can we take?

Well, prayer, of course.  We have to have hope that God will take up for us what we cannot do for ourselves.  But that’s just it.  God never said, “Don’t try anything tricky, now.  Just stay home and pray and see what happens.”  If that were the case, then the apostles would have stayed in that upper room, praying that the rest of humanity would somehow magically turn to God and believe in the saving love of Jesus Christ.  We know that that is not what happened.  The apostles knew that hope was part of the mission, part of the job description.  Spreading hope for redemption and new life was what they did as they traveled the world.  And having hope was square one.  I do not think that they could ever have done what they did if they weren’t moved by faith and love, while leaning into hope. 

Now, you know what they say—that once we learn some new word or fact, we begin to see it all around us.  Maybe it was always there but now we’re beginning to notice it.  I don’t typically read Psychology Today, but the cover story of the June issue—which I spotted at the grocery checkout line—was about HOPE (all caps).  And here’s a very relevant tidbit from a book I finished reading on Friday afternoon.  The book is Why the Greeks Matter, by Thomas Cahill, and the point he makes as he closes his final chapter is that hope was one of the defining traits of—not the Greeks—but Jews and Christians.  

Here’s a quote.  He states that the worldview of the New Testament stressed “the adventure of a personal journey with God, a lifetime journey in which  [human beings were] invited to unite [themselves] to God by imitating God’s justice and mercy…Time is real…[I]t does not repeat itself but proceeds inexorably, which makes each moment—and the decisions I make each moment—precious.  I am not merely an instance of [a human], I am this particular, unrepeatable human being, who never existed before and will never exist again.  I create a real future in the present by what I do now.  Whereas fate was central to Greeks and Romans, hope is central to Jews and Christians.  Anyone who doubts the great gulf between these two worldviews has only to reread the speeches Hector makes [in The Iliad] to realize the impossibility of putting such speeches on the lips of any believing Jew or Christian: [and here’s the snippet]

            ‘And fate?  No one alive has ever escaped it,

            neither brave man nor coward, I tell you—

            it’s born with us the day that we are born.’ “

We can easily recognize that this idea is in complete opposition to the triplets of 1 Corinthians. So hope, it turns out, is recognized as a central and essential part of the Christian worldview.

Now, here’s another perspective.

An article in the Washington Post a few months back looked at hope from the point of view of journalism.  But I think that some of the author’s points were just as applicable to everyday people.  With so many terrible things happening in the world, talking about hope or hopefulness sounds almost delusional.  And, frankly, being cynical feels like a protective shield against having our hearts broken.  But apparently it’s just the opposite.  Scientists have been studying hope for over 30 years and they have begun to see it as a skill that can be taught and strengthened.  More than 2,000 studies have shown that those who practice hope do better in sports, school, and work.  “They manage illness, pain, and injury better and score higher on assessments of happiness, purpose, and self-esteem.”  People who know how to tap into hope are better able to bounce back from traumas like domestic violence, child abuse, and other terrible situations.  I’m thinking of those who lives are shattered by war, poverty, or natural disasters. 

So hope is actually good for us.  Active hope means taking up a challenge to see the future in brighter terms and believing that we “actually have a role to play in making it better.”  “If [hope] were an equation, it would look something like: hope = goals + roadmap + willpower.”

Here’s where I have to include an example from my own life experience.  My mother was the one to call when I felt that there was no hope and I just didn’t know what to do.  So, if I called home from college, let’s say, in a panic because “I have 2 exams tomorrow, plus I need to get more research done for a huge paper due on Wednesday, but I’m already drooping with exhaustion from a late night studying last night and I just don’t know what to do.”  Now, here’s Mom:  “Okay.  Okay.”  This was always the starter, followed by “Let’s think.”  And she would ask some questions about relative importance of factors, and then she’d make some recommendations like “What if you—fill in the blank with actions that could be arranged to get the most bang for the buck.”  And voilá!  Suddenly there are goals plus a roadmap.  And my mother fed me willpower with a steam shovel.  I always channel her when my own children have felt helpless and unable to muster hope.  Giving someone hope when hope is gone—active hope, not the false, pie-in-the-sky kind but active hope—is really God’s work.  I believe that.

You remember the saying “Faith without works is dead”?  Many works are driven by love, but maybe some start out driven by hope. 

If we believe that there is a chance and that we can help to drive up the success rate of that chance, then we are exercising our active hope.  In fact, the anticipation of what tomorrow may bring—when looked at as a challenge that we are ready to meet with a combination of positivity and realism—makes each day glow with expectation.  Planning for upcoming events and activities (like the kind we enjoy through our Christian fellowship) keeps each present day hopeful and keeps us from dwelling on the past or on times when things didn’t go our way.  Hope helps us to live life fully—the life that God wants for us, not a shadow existence where we give up our lives to fear and doubt and regret. There’s an old Mexican proverb:  “I never ask God to give me anything.  I just ask God to put me where things are.  I can do the rest.”  That’s living with active hope!  Think about the difference between saying, “I wish” and “I hope.”  If you say that you wish our congregation could do or be something in the next year—well, that may just be wishful thinking.  But if you say that you hope that we will—now you’re ready to put yourself and the church on the path to action and potential success.

I actually got into this examination of hope by reading the obituary of a man called Brother Andrew.  He died last October, at the age of 94.  (If you are on Session, you may recall my speaking about this man.)  He had grown up in the Netherlands, during the Nazi occupation.  His family made it their calling to share what little they had with the hungry and homeless.  As an adult, he made it his mission to bring Bibles (ultimately millions of Bibles over his lifetime) to Christians behind the Iron Curtain who had none.  You may recall how difficult, even risky, it was to practice the Christian faith during those Cold War days.  In the former Czechoslovakia, pastors had to have their sermons approved by the government before they could preach them.  Think about that for a moment.  People in Macedonia could only attend church after dark.  To be seen going to a worship service was just too dangerous. 

And many of these faithful Christians (because who could doubt their commitment to the faith when they were willing to worship under threat)—many of these Christians had no Bibles.  They were starting to lose hope that those in the West even thought about them and their struggles to practice the most basic forms of Christian worship.  But Brother Andrew traveled back and forth many times, ostensibly as a teacher but most importantly as a smuggler of Bibles.  And wherever he went, he brought hope. 

Once, when he was traveling to the former Yugoslavia, his car already weighed down with hidden Bibles, his traveling companion hopped into the front seat with a carton of Ukrainian Bibles on his lap.  His thinking was “If we’re going to be arrested for carrying in Bibles, we might as well be arrested for carrying in a lot of them.”

So Brother Andrew’s mission was to embrace a challenge—much as the apostles did.  They traveled the world teaching faith, preaching love, and spreading hope to people who had lost sight of it. 

So here’s today’s message, in a nutshell:

1.  Remember that hope is really important.  Paul said that love was the most important of the three, but if he didn’t think that hope was important, he wouldn’t have included it in that trio of mindsets in 1 Corinthians.  Hope is important to our Christian life.

2. The best way to keep hope going is with prayer and action.  Hope means that we haven’t given up.  And sometimes hope primes the pump of action. 

Remember: 

Hope = Goal + Roadmap + Willpower.  That doesn’t mean that we should waste effort on those things that we cannot change!   Remember that the serenity prayer concludes with “and the wisdom to know the difference.”  Sometimes we need to pray for strength to endure what cannot be changed or doesn’t go our way.  But we shouldn’t throw in the towel on living.  Leaning into hope keeps us focused on what we CAN do, even when we can’t fix everything.  And why shouldn’t we have hope?  We walk each day with Jesus—our savior and our friend.

And, lastly, we can encourage others to have hope.  People need to know that others care about them.  They’re not forgotten.  Nothing can lead a person to lose hope faster than feeling entirely unseen or forgotten.  We don’t have to cross international borders, like Brother Andrew, to bring hope.  There are so many ways that we can be smugglers of hope right in our own neighborhoods and families wherever we see people—Christian or not—who feel forgotten, lonely, or afraid.  The world is full of these people, isn’t it? Lifting people up and giving them a reason for hope is part of our mission as Christ’s hands in the world.  After all, it’s linked forever between faith and love.

Will you pray with me?

Heavenly and Triune God,

Keep us ever mindful of our many blessings.  Alongside faith and love, help us to lean into hope—for ourselves and for the world.  And may we always be bringers of hope—even smugglers of hope–to those who need to know that they are seen and that they are loved.

In Jesus name we pray. Amen

Meditation on Acts 2:1-21 for Pentecost

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

May 28, 2023

My son left on a plane for Denver yesterday. He and I cleaned out his bedroom and packed three big suitcases and a couple of smaller ones. When we were done, all the suitcases were too heavy for me to lift. His dresser drawers are empty. His closets are MOSTLY empty. There’s still a few important things left that he will retrieve when he comes back, hopefully, in October, when his younger brother gets married here. But there’s no knowing what the future will hold. He graduated college this month, and is interviewing for jobs in Colorado, a place he chose to live for a number of personal reasons. 

One by one, our children have moved away to find their destinies, live out their dreams, and become the people God has planned for them to be.  One lives in Minnesota; one lives in Massachusetts with his wife and daughters. One lives in California; and now, one will be living in Colorado. After Jacob moved out yesterday, taking his three huge suitcases and two smaller bags with him, the house already felt too big for Jim and me, a dog and a cat. I am not sure how I will do with this new season of life.  I don’t feel comfortable with this “empty nest” thing. Mostly, I am just missing my son.

Friends, the Power of Love is this—it doesn’t just let go of us, even if we might want it to. Love connects us to God and people with a power so strong that even when we aren’t together, Love is still there. Don’t you still love people who are no longer with you?

The only thing left to do, through all these seasons of our lives, is trust the Spirit.

The Spirit lives in all of us. The Spirit is doing its transforming work in us, right now, as I share this message. The Spirit of the Living God that came on Pentecost is with us still—transforming our hearts and lives in sometimes imperceptible ways – and then suddenly, we realize there’s been a big change! And we feel shaken to the core.

That’s how we know, dear friends, how we are reminded, that the Holy Spirit has come!

On Pentecost, the first group of Christ’s followers encounter LOVE with a capital L! Love sets them on fire with a gift of tongues that surprises everyone—including the disciples who are speaking in previously unknown languages. They are able to communicate with strangers from many nations gathered in Jerusalem for the feast of Shavuot, a Hebrew word that means “Weeks.” “Pentecost” comes from the Greek word that means “50,” for it is 50 days after the second night of Passover. Shavuot is a time of thanksgiving for the first fruits of the wheat harvest and for the giving of the Torah to Moses on Mt. Sinai.

These Galileans—uneducated, unsophisticated—can’t possibly know these languages on their own, without God’s help. They are also beginning to live into their spiritual gifts, such as Peter’s sudden ability to proclaim the Word—and use humor to engage his audience—some who are taken by the wonder of the wind, fire, and speaking in tongues, and some who sneer with disgust, “They are filled with new wine!” They’re just drunk!!

Don’t forget! This is the Peter who had denied Jesus 3 times before the cock crowed! He had let Jesus down and all the disciples down! But now, Christ’s promise to Peter that he would be the rock on which he would build his church comes true. Now he breaks down the barriers between people when he opens his mouth and proclaims, “Fellow Jews and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say.Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning.”

In other words, wait till later—and yes, these will be drunk—just like you!!

His beautiful sermon connects the coming of the Spirit to its foreshadowing by the prophet Joel in Holy Scripture, beginning at verse 17…

¹⁷ ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
¹⁸ Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit,
        and they shall prophesy.

Peter’s preaching cuts to the heart. People are convicted of their sin and their need for a Savior. Thousands of people call on the name of the Lord. The Church of Jesus Christ is “born” and will grow and move, from person to person, testimony to testimony, place to place. The move of the Spirit is entirely unpredictable. As Jesus says to Nicodemus in John 3:8, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

At times, the Church stumbles a bit—and becomes divided. Does this happen today? Of course.  One memorable time is in Acts 15:36-41, just before Paul leaves on his second missionary journey. While he and Barnabas plan out the details of the trip, they get into an argument about whether John “Mark” should go with them. Paul, who had had a dramatic conversion experience on the Road to Damascus to persecute Christians, now doesn’t think Mark should be given a second chance. Here’s the passage….

³⁶ And after some days Paul said to Barnabas, “Let us return and visit the brothers in every city where we proclaimed the word of the Lord, and see how they are.” ³⁷ Now Barnabas wanted to take with them John called Mark. ³⁸ But Paul thought best not to take with them one who had withdrawn from them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work. ³⁹ And there arose a sharp disagreement, so that they separated from each other. Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus, ⁴⁰ but Paul chose Silas and departed, having been commended by the brothers to the grace of the Lord.”

Barnabas was the first to believe in Paul, when the other followers of Christ still saw him as Saul, the persecutor of Christians. Barnabas was one of his closest friends and you could even say his mentor. How was Paul able to continue in ministry, though his heart must have been breaking? And yet we see that Paul and Silas’s ministry WAS made fruitful by the Spirit when we read in verse 41, “And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches.”

So, I got to thinking… What we perceive as painful divisions or simply long separations are only temporary in the eternal scheme of things. Today, we grieve loved ones, some who have gone home to be with the Lord, already. But one day, we will all be gathered for the heavenly banquet, when worshipers will come from east and west and north and south to sit at table in in the Kingdom of God. Nothing will separate us from God or one another—not then! We will experience the fullness of the Power of LOVE; now, we only experience it in part.

I told my son that I wasn’t going to call and bother him. That lasted a few hours. I did call him last night, when he had waited about 6 hours at JFK for his flight. I had something important to ask him. I had just washed his quilt. Did he want me to mail it to him? He paused and said, “I guess you could do that.” The conversation lasted about 2 minutes. The loudspeaker booming at the gate kept interrupting. But it was nice to hear his voice—and to tell him, once again, that I love him. And to hear him say, “I love you” back.

I don’t know how I will get through this new season of my life. Right now, I feel shaken to the core. But my faith tells me to trust the Spirit that is already in the place where my son is going. Psalm 139 tells us that there’s nowhere we can go on earth to escape the Lord! God is already there! All that’s left is trust in the good plan that our Loving Lord has for him and for all of us.

And that feeling of being shaken to the core—that’s how we are reminded that the Holy Spirit is doing its work in and with us. It doesn’t always feel comfortable! Think of Pentecost—that wasn’t comfortable—with a rush of violent wind and tongues of fire! Sometimes, the Spirit’s work in us is, well, scary! That’s how we are reminded, dear friends, that the Holy Spirit has come!

Will you pray with me?

Heavenly Father, thank you for sending your Holy Spirit on Pentecost to give birth to and empower the Church. Thank you that your Spirit is still with us, working in our hearts and lives, in ways that are sometimes imperceptible, and other times, we are shaken to the core. Thank you for having a plan for every one of us and reminding us, with every sunrise and sunset, of your love and faithfulness. Be with our loved ones, Lord, from whom we are separated. Comfort our grieving hearts. By your Spirit, fill up any empty spaces in us, left by personal losses. Let us be filled to overflowing with the Power of Your Love to do your will. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Acts 1:6-14

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

May 21, 2023

Her name was Wilma. She was a member of my flock in Coshocton. And she was my friend.

We became close during the pandemic in 2020. But our friendship started before then. We sang in the choir together, and we shared a love for church history and orange cats. Hers was named Eddie. Mine was Melvyn. She was smart and outspoken. Though she didn’t have the opportunity to attend college, she had worked for the historical society and museum and as a genealogist, tending the collection in the historical room at the library. She had co-written two local history books.

Our dream was to work on a local history project together. I was going to help her sort through a large collection of 19^th century letters and write the story of her husband’s great grandfather, the Rev. William Ellis Hunt. He served as the pastor of the Presbyterian church in the 1800s for 42 years.

Her husband, Paul, struggled with health and mobility problems. We visited him in a personal care center, celebrated Communion there, and shared stories about the good old days. But when the pandemic led to closures and the virus swept through the town, we were not able to see him. Wilma continued to call and sometimes visit him by standing in the yard outside his window.

When Paul tested positive for COVID, he was put into isolation at the hospital. The nurses finally allowed the family to visit. They were dressed in special coverings from head to toe and could only see Paul through the glass in the ICU. He died on June 29, 2020.

I presided over the funeral at our small chapel. Only 10 people were allowed to attend. I still remember how Wilma looked under the tent at the graveside, with her twin sister, Wanda. The strong, smart, no-nonsense woman with a quirky sense of humor was overcome by emotion. She wiped away tears and apologized for crying. I told her it was OK.  It was more than OK.

We had prayed and prayed for Paul.  And God’s answer was that the Lord took him home.

Wilma, with her characteristic strength and good humor, became more involved in the church than ever! She attended Thursday night Zoom book studies with me, wrote articles and member spotlights for our newsletter. She wrote and shared scripturally based devotions for our prayer fellowship group.

And we still talked on the phone regularly and shared memories of Paul. About a year after his passing, she underwent back surgery. There were complications. And we prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed. The energetic, spry little woman that I knew was now in a wheelchair.

She continued to hold onto hope that she would be able to walk, again. But she couldn’t go back to her home or to her big, orange cat Eddie. She couldn’t live independently anymore. And we would never work together on William Ellis Hunt’s story.

Her new home was an assisted living facility—a nice one that served ice cream in the middle of the night if you wanted it, she said. But it was 45 minutes from the town where she had lived nearly all her life—away from friends, family, church, and me. And it was still the pandemic; visitation was limited. Her friends continued to call her, leaving messages on her unanswered cell phone. They wondered why she wasn’t calling back.

All we could do was pray.

The disciples praying together in the Upper Room—being constantly devoted to prayer—stirs me to wonder…. What are they praying for? And were their prayers answered in the way they expected?

Jesus was continually surprising them. And it seemed like they weren’t on the same page with him. When the risen Christ was with his disciples and was teaching them, they still didn’t understand what his death and resurrection meant. The disciples asked him at the beginning of our passage in Acts chapter 1, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 

Jesus replies, oh so patiently, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.” But you are going to receive power from on high, he goes on. The Holy Spirit will come upon you. And you will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth.

And just like that—he’s gone!! Lifted into the air, as they watch down below. “A cloud took him out of their sight.”

Yes, I’m pretty sure they weren’t expecting that!  They continue to stand there, watching the sky, until finally two men in white startle them by asking why they are still standing there, looking up? Here’s the promise. “He’s coming back.” This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

He’s coming on a cloud! He’s coming, again!

So, they return to Jerusalem in haste and gather in the Upper Room. They have a calling and a purpose, but no direction or power to move forward in ministry. These are not just the original 12 disciples, minus Judas Iscariot, but others, even “certain” women, including his mother, Mary, and his brothers—half siblings.  Locked in the Upper Room, they have nothing to do but pray and wait…..For the promise of the angels to come true—that Jesus will come again, just as he left. And that the Spirit would come, and each would have Christ’s power to not just be his disciple, but his apostle, from the Greek apostolos, meaning “one being sent.”

This passage read alongside Jesus’ prayer for his disciples in John—just after he tells them that his hour has come—reveals how Christ’s request that they become One is coming true—through prayer!

 ^“I am asking on their behalf,” Jesus says in John 17:10, near the end of this beautiful prayer. “All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I have been glorified in them. And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”

The arrival of the Spirit will draw them ever nearer to God and one another and empower them to be his witnesses, as he has said. Still, we are waiting for that ultimate promise, made by the two men in white—that Jesus will come again, just as he left. We pray, as Andrae’ Crouch sang in that wonderful gospel song, that it will be, “Soon and Very Soon,” when we’re going to see the king.

And we continue to hold each other in our powerful prayers. We never give up hope, though the prayers may not be answered in the way that we expect. We trust in the things we don’t know or understand, yet, because we are still tightly enmeshed in this world, just as the first disciples were who asked Jesus, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 

We pray, as the Lord continues to pray with and for us—that we would be One—with each other, in the Lord, in God’s love.

I traveled to visit Wilma a couple of times in her new home at the assisted living center. We talked a few times on the phone, with her daughter’s help. The last time was right before I left Coshocton to come and shepherd my new flock.

She excitedly told me about how she was leading a Bible study for the residents—and they were asking good questions and one fella, with a salty tongue and a flirty manner, was making her laugh. She was leading a current events discussion group, reading the paper aloud each day. She was organizing games of wheelchair beach ball, encouraging others to keep moving and have fun. She was beginning to see the surgical complications that left her in a wheelchair as the thing that set her free to do what God had ordained. She had found her purpose, a ministry—an answer to her prayer. While she still missed Coshocton and her church, she was content that God was using her. She was at peace.

It was my turn to be overcome by emotion. She gave me her blessing to go on to my new ministry—wherever God was calling me. At that moment, I only felt grief, knowing that I would probably never see Wilma again—not in this world, anyway.

Surprisingly, I heard from Wilma’s daughter, Christy, yesterday! Christy responded to my text from a New York phone number, “Mom is doing great.” She directed me to the FB page of her assisted living center where there are pictures of her and “all the things she’s been doing.” “She’s found her groove,” her daughter said, “and enjoying herself! Thank goodness!”

She gave me her mother’s mailing address and phone number but warned that she still never answers her cell phone or returns calls—because she is too busy! I saw her on Facebook—smiling with her friends—poised to eat lemon cake in one photo, painting a large sign in another that says, “Believe.”

 I look again at the photo because I don’t see it right away. Yes, she is still in a wheelchair, but she sits easily and naturally, as if it is, well, just another chair. All of this is an answer to prayer, but not the answer we expected.  We wanted her to walk again.

And by her faith and the grace of God, she is learning to soar.

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for your Son, Jesus Christ, who prayed for his disciples and continues to pray for us today. Help us, Lord, to be One in You, One in Your Love. May we feel the safety of your grace and embrace. Stir us to hold one another in our powerful prayers and be constantly devoted to prayer, as your disciples were in the Upper Room. Teach us how to pray. Guide us in your will. Give us patience when the answer is “Wait for my answer,” and when your answer is not what we expect—or what we want. Thank you for showing your purpose to Wilma, using her for a special ministry, and entrusting all of us to be your witnesses to the ends of the earth. And dear Lord, please hold Wilma and all of the vulnerable senior citizens in our flock in your tender care.  Bless and protect them from harm. In the name of Your Son we pray. Amen.